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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919183">Figure You Out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw'>Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Flash (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Flirting, Hook-Up, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, M/M, Morning After, POV Antagonist, Power Dynamics, Remix, Rough Sex, Season/Series 01, Superpower Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:55:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The kid looks like the type who's never set foot in a place like Saints and Sinner before, and Leonard's... intrigued. He's always loved a good mystery.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barry Allen/Leonard Snart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>426</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Figure You Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedHarlequin/gifts">TheRedHarlequin</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/18730537">A Good Time for Bad Ideas</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw">Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was inspired by a comment from TheRedHarlequin, who was curious about Len's POV of "A Good Time for Bad Ideas". :D I don't normally care much for remixes or sequels, but the idea got stuck in my head, and before I knew it, I'd started writing it.</p><p>Like "A Good Time for Bad Ideas", this is set vaguely after 1x10 Revenge of the Rogues and assumes Snart hasn't learned Barry's identify yet. There's no need to read "Bad Ideas" before this one, if you haven't - this can stand alone.</p><p>Thanks to my lovely beta glitterburn for fixing all my typos. ♥</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>There's something about the kid. </p><p>He's not the usual sort of clientele around here, and he's been drawing all kinds of attention the minute he stepped into Saints and Sinners. Doesn't take a mind-reading meta to figure out that he's on the 'saints' side of the equation, so far across the line that Leonard would bet he doesn't usually mingle with the sinners. But that's not it. Something else has been bothering Leonard, and he can't quite put his finger on what it is. Can't even decide if he's the good kind of <i>bothered</i> or the bad kind. </p><p>This just won't do. </p><p>Leonard's usually good at reading people. It's rare that people surprise him, even rarer that he can't get a read on someone at all, and he hates it. Frustration prickles under his skin, an intense, dogged fixation on figuring out the puzzle in front of him, and he knows he won't be able to let it go.</p><p>When Leonard goes over and sidles up, the kid gets flustered, more than he was already. A spark of recognition flashes in his eyes, and for a split-second panic ripples across his face. No, that's not right. Not panic. Wariness. </p><p>Smart kid. </p><p>Clearly, Leonard's reputation has preceded him. And as much as he likes it that way and has worked hard to earn the kind of notoriety that elicits fear and intimidates, it admittedly has its downsides now and then.</p><p>He's ready to back off a bit in case the kid gets too spooked, but when Leonard offers to buy him a drink, he just awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and gives Leonard a considering look before shrugging and agreeing. Leonard half-expects him to be gone when he returns with two beers, but he finds him right where he left him, leaning against the pool table in the corner with his arms crossed in front of him. Still sticking out like a sore thumb. Or a mark, ripe for the picking.</p><p>Leonard hands him a bottle and introduces himself. Or, more precisely, he says "Call me Leonard," because it's obvious that the kid knows who he is, and this isn't the kind of situation where he likes to go by <i>Cold</i> or <i>Snart</i>.</p><p>"I'm Barry," the kid says, and immediately makes a face as if he wants to catch the words and haul them back in. </p><p>Huh. Now, normally, Leonard would have assumed that any name he'd be given would be fake, but the reaction probably means it wasn't. <i>Interesting.</i></p><p>Smart enough to know who he's dealing with, but not smart enough to be cautious, then. Or maybe just not thinking with his brain.</p><p>Leonard perches himself on the edge of the table and gives the 8-ball a little spin that makes it twirl across the green cloth. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Barry peel at the label on his beer. </p><p>"Well, Barry. I'd ask if you come here often, but the answer's pretty obvious."</p><p>Barry ducks his head and huffs out a laugh. His smile is sunny and wide, lighting up his whole face. There's something almost familiar about it, but Leonard finds himself distracted by the way Barry's eyes crinkle and how the humor instantly wipes away his awkwardness.</p><p>"We can't all be regulars at the shadiest place this side of the river," Barry counters, and Leonard's  interest ratchets up another notch. </p><p>Even among the regulars, there aren't many people around here who dare to talk back at him, not even in a playful way. For all his trepidation when Leonard approached him, Barry doesn't seem to be scared at all. Which is a good thing, but also... curious. </p><p>Leonard raises an eyebrow and decides to test how far Barry's willingness to banter is gonna go. "Pretty sure Saints is the shadiest place on either side of the river. No competition there."</p><p>"Oh, sorry, my bad. Let me quickly correct my one star Trip Advisor review."</p><p>Not just a one-off, then. Kid's got a bite.</p><p>Leonard shrugs. "Don't knock it just yet. The beer's cheap. Pickled eggs are fantastic. Sometimes the company's not too bad, either." He lets his eyes trail up and down Barry's form in a deliberately blatant once-over. </p><p>Even under the dim lights, the faint flush that spreads across Barry's cheeks is plain to see. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth, and Leonard can't look away. </p><p>Barry isn't meeting his eyes, but his body angles further towards Leonard's as he puts his beer down onto the pool table's frame, the label almost completely scratched off now. Some of the beer sloshes out and trickles down the glass, and Leonard realizes that Barry hasn't taken a drink yet.</p><p>He reaches across to take the bottle from the table and lifts it to his lips, taking a generous sip before putting it back where Barry left it. "There."</p><p>Confusion passes across Barry's expression. He frowns at the bottle and then at Leonard, who shrugs. "In case you were concerned that it was spiked."</p><p>"For real? I wasn't, but I, um, appreciate the gesture, I guess?" </p><p>It sounds more like a question than a statement – half-exasperated, half-incredulous – but Barry's lips twitch as he takes the bottle. He doesn't wipe the neck before he closes his mouth over where Leonard's was just seconds ago, and he holds Leonard's gaze as he tips the bottle back and swallows. </p><p>Leonard drinks in the sight. The flush on Barry's cheeks. The way his throat works. The spark of teasing in the green of his eyes.</p><p>Pure, naked <i>want</i> hits Leonard with an intensity that surprises him. His interest had been piqued the second Barry stepped into the bar, but what was idle curiosity at first is now overshadowed by something far baser and more carnal. He wants to pull away the bottle from Barry's mouth and replace it with his lips. Wants to strip him and follow that blush as far down as it goes and further still. Want to bend the kid over and fucking <i>ruin</i> him.</p><p>He slides off the pool table and takes a step closer towards Barry, right into his personal space, crowding him the way he only ever does when he wants to threaten or seduce someone. Perhaps Barry gets the wrong impression, because his cockiness momentarily vanishes, replaced by the earlier wariness, like maybe he expects Leonard to pull out the Cold Gun and ice him. </p><p>Leonard should probably retreat. Give the kid some breathing room. Maybe make some innocuous small talk. Barry looks like the type who does small talk, the type who likes to spend some time getting to know each other. But he also looks like the type who never sets foot in a place like Saints and Sinners – and yet here he is. If he didn't want to step out of his comfort zone, he'd never have come here in the first place, and he certainly would have split the first chance he had after Leonard approached him.</p><p>So Leonard leans in even further, letting the drawl of his voice turn into a purr. "Hmm. Just how much do you <i>appreciate</i> it?"</p><p>Barry still looks like he wants to run. He's clutching the bottle in front of him like a protective shield, and his gaze is restlessly flickering from Leonard and away again without lingering. His Adam's apple rapidly bobs as he swallows.</p><p>But as much as he seems ready to bolt... he doesn't, as if he's caught between two impulses. He doesn't seem to be the fighting type, so Leonard figures it must be flight – or give in. </p><p>And, well, no harm pushing him a little towards the right choice, is there? </p><p>"Here's the thing, Barry. You're a good guy. No priors, no record, probably not even a speeding ticket." The kid makes an aborted, choked sound, and Leonard knows he's got him piqued. "And I know right now you're trying to tell yourself that you shouldn't let me take you home, because you know I'm bad news. But you already made it all the way into the wrong part of town, so why get <i>cold feet</i> and back out now? If you do, you're always going to wonder. I'll make it worth your while. I'll even let you get back to your neat little life unscathed. Pinkie promise."</p><p>Barry snorts. "You've got some ego, Snart."</p><p>Last names now? Could almost be an attempt to create distance – but paradoxically, it feels like it's the opposite. Feels weirdly familiar. Whatever trepidation held Barry captive just before is gone, the sass back in his tone and his attitude. Leonard likes it more than he expected.</p><p>"Not wrong, though, am I?" </p><p>He smirks, eyes keen on Barry's face, watching, waiting. Leonard can spot the exact moment he makes up his mind. </p><p>
  <i>Gotcha.</i>
</p><p>Barry slides his hands into the pockets of his sweater and lifts his chin, looking at Leonard straight on. "Fine. Let's go."</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>#</p>
</div>For all of his hesitance at Saints and Sinners, Barry has no shame in asking for what he wants once Leonard's got him into his bed.<p>He lets Leonard press him into the mattress, lets him hold him down, and relaxes into it. Arching into each possessive touch, compliant and without shame, his submission a beautiful sight. Leonard pins his arms above his head with a grip he knows is a little too firm to be comfortable, encircling those slender wrists with punishing fingers that are certain to leave bruises in their wake. He promised Barry he'd get away unscathed, but Leonard figures a few marks don't count. And judging by the way Barry's cock jumps, he likes being trapped at least as much as Leonard likes trapping him.</p><p>Leonard takes his sweet time with him, revels in teasing Barry and drawing it out. He fingers him until he's a needy mess and he's looking up at Leonard with glassy eyes, high on arousal. Waits until his name tumbles from Barry's lips in a desperate plea before he finally lines up his cock and pushes into that lovely, firm ass ever so slowly. It takes every ounce of self-control to resist the urge to just slam home. </p><p>Hard to miss the fact that the kid wants it faster. But his frustration and the helpless need with which he gives himself to Leonard are too beautiful not to enjoy for a bit longer. He's just so <i>eager</i> for it, like he hasn't been touched in too long. </p><p>His thighs wrap around Leonard's hips with unexpected strength, and his voice takes a whiny edge. "Come on."</p><p>Leonard grins. "Impatient, Barry? Don't worry, I'll get you there." </p><p>It's a promise he has every intention of keeping. But not just yet.</p><p>He maps Barry's skin with his free hand, following the flush he found so irresistible earlier down until it bleeds into pale, freckled skin. It's without scars; Barry's clearly lived a lucky life, free of accidents and violence and cruel fathers. He's almost perfectly unmarred except for the remnants of a large bruise at his left side, probably two weeks old from the looks of it, faded into a pale duskiness. Leonard brushes his fingers over it, and for a moment Barry goes rigid before he relaxes into Leonard's explorations. </p><p>He idly wonders what kind of trouble Barry was in that left such a mark, and if it had anything to do with the reason he came venturing into the wrong side of town tonight. </p><p>No matter, now. That's a mystery for another time. There are more pressing matters to attend to this very moment. </p><p>Barry's skin feels almost feverishly hot, and his eyes are closed. His wrists are twisting beneath Leonard's hand, but not like he wants to escape its grip – half-hearted and without intent. Leonard would bet that Barry doesn't even realize that he's doing it, just like he probably doesn't realize that he makes those helpless, broken little sounds every time Leonard's cock pulls back with a sluggish pace to leave him empty and open.</p><p>Leonard does it again, just to hear that sweet, stifled moan once more. And again. And again. </p><p>But even his patience is finite, and between the way Barry looks and sounds and the slow tease of friction, his ability to keep a cool head rapidly dwindles. </p><p>As fun as it is to keep Barry on the edge and toy with him, enough is enough. </p><p>Leonard doesn't hold back the next time he pushes in, slamming his hips forward hard and fast. Barry's eyes fly open and he gasps as if the air's been punched out of him. At every thrust, his body seems to open up further for Leonard. The kid's cock jolts against Leonard's stomach, trapped between their bodies, hard and leaking, dripping pre-cum all over. </p><p>Barry's gasps turn into little whines as Leonard keeps fucking into him at a merciless pace. His arms strain, and his fingers ache from the force he needs to hold Barry down and keep his twitching body in check, but fuck – it's worth it.</p><p>Barry's babbling now, only half-coherent, pleading and begging for release. "Please, Snart, just—"</p><p>Leonard would tease him for his desperation, but he doesn't have the energy left, or the patience. He tilts his hips just so to go a little deeper, and he knows he found the right angle when Barry makes a broken sound and comes apart under him.</p><p>Literally.</p><p>The kid is shaking so fast that he's <i>blurring</i>. There's a split second where Leonard's alarmed and thinks something's wrong with Barry – a bad reaction to a drug he's taken, or a seizure – but he doesn't look like he's in pain, he looks like— Like he's just moving too damn fast. And then, at once, the memory where Leonard's seen this kind of blur before hits him right in the gut.</p><p>Barry's body vibrating around Leonard's cock is a unique sensation, better than a living, breathing sex toy. But what pushes him over the edge is the knowledge of just <i>who</i> he's got stripped bare and shaking apart around his cock.</p><p>He comes hard and fast, unable to draw it out any further. It feels like a high-speed punch, and he grinds his teeth and closes his eyes as his release is ripped out of him, spilling into the tight heat of Barry's ass, marking him from the inside. His territorial, possessive instincts flare up at the idea, the ones that make him want to paint <i>Captain Cold was here</i> all over every corner of Central City. Not just the city, but its hero too, apparently. He rigorously shoves the thought away before it can take hold.</p><p>In the aftermath of his orgasm, the continued stimulation of Barry's vibrations become too much. Leonard pulls out and away, taking the opportunity to observe the unique sight of that blurring body right in front of him, unable to take his eyes off of Barry. </p><p>Leonard keenly watches as the movements slow down, until Barry's form becomes solid and steady again. A shuddering exhale leaves his lips, and for a brief moment, his eyes flutter shut. Does he even realize how vulnerable he is right now? That all it would take for Leonard is to grab his gun and take a shot and all the speed in the world wouldn't help him?</p><p>His eyes are drawn again to that single bruise on Barry's side. It starkly stands out, dark against the pale skin surrounding it, and with abrupt clarity, Leonard realizes what it likely is and where Barry must have acquired it. If Leonard's right, it can't be nearly as old as he initially thought.</p><p>He tears his gaze away from it and looks up to meet Barry's guarded eyes. The wariness written all over the kid's features brings a smirk to Leonard's lips, because it's clear that Barry knows exactly how <i>revealing</i> that fascinating little performance of his was just now. </p><p>Leonard's going to have so much <i>fun</i> with that.</p><p>"Well, well, well. What an unexpected pleasure, <i>Flash</i>." He cocks his head and gives Barry a curious look. "Tell me, how did you think this would go?" </p><p>Barry winces. </p><p>"I didn't," he says, and he looks so damn awkward that Leonard believes him. Didn't really expect anything different, really. The Flash never struck him as a big strategist, and nothing about his behavior tonight suggests that he was working with an ulterior motive in mind. "I mean, I didn't plan on running into you. Or... any of this. I was at the bar to get intel about a ca— about someone we've been tracking down. I almost flashed out of there when I saw you approach, but I didn't want to give myself away." </p><p>"<i>Really</i>. You didn't want to give yourself away?" Leonard gives him a pointed look. That worked out well for Barry, didn't it? If he really hadn't wanted to take any risks, all he had to do was ditch Leonard at Saints and Sinners when he went to get them a beer, or later tell him 'thanks but no thanks' and leave. "Could have fooled me."</p><p>Barry rubs the back of his neck, and Leonard mentally files it away as a tell to look out for the next time they run into each other in a more... professional capacity. </p><p>"Yeah, okay, I know how that sounds now. But I didn't know this would happen, okay?" </p><p>Hard to believe. "What? No one ever made you vibrate before? What can I say, I'm just that good," Leonard quips.</p><p>"Oh God, stop. No, I just never—" Barry stops himself, seeming to have realized what this sounds like. "Not <i>never</i> never, obviously. Just... not since I got my powers."</p><p>He looks so embarrassed that it could almost be the truth. And Leonard isn't sure that he really wants to entertain the alternative. "Aren't you full of surprises? Have to say, this has been... enlightening, Flash."</p><p>Enlightening, and more entertaining than Leonard had imagined when he took Barry home with him last night, in more ways than one. </p><p>Still, all good things must pass, and this strangely peaceful little chit-chat is quickly reaching the end of its natural lifespan. </p><p>Sitting up a little straighter, Leonard thinks about how best to cut this off. He's got the Cold Gun leaning against the side of the bed, within easy reach if he wants to return them to the status quo, and the longer Barry's looking at him with those soft green eyes of his, the more Leonard's fingers are itching to feel the familiar heaviness of the gun in his hands.</p><p>"Do we have to fight?" Barry whines, petulantly, as if he's been reading Leonard's mind. The idea that he's been telegraphing his thoughts so clearly doesn't sit well, but before he has a chance to occupy himself with that concern, Barry's next words make his thoughts grind to a halt. "Can we just stay in bed and cuddle for a while?"  </p><p>Can they do <i>what</i> now?</p><p>Leonard raises his eyebrow, watching Barry's cheek flush as scarlet as the color of his suit. The kid groans and closes his eyes, comically flopping back onto the mattress. "Can we just pretend I didn't say that right now?"</p><p>"Hmm. I don't think so. In fact, I think I'll enjoy reminding you every time you flash in and try to mess with my plans." He's going to come away from this night with a whole new array of things to use against the Flash, and he <i>loves</i> it.</p><p>Barry sighs and turns back towards Leonard. "You're a dick."</p><p>Something about his tone makes Leonard bristle. He says it with a kind of mild resignation, almost fond, the same kind of fake exasperation like when Lisa calls Leonard a jerk or when Mick gruffly complains about his plans. That just won't do. </p><p>Just because they're on first name basis now and have intimate knowledge of each other, they're not <i>friends</i>. They're not—whatever the hell Barry's got in his head that they are – and the sooner Leonard reminds him of it, the better. </p><p>He moves into Barry's personal space, Leonard's arms bracketing Barry's face as he glares down at him. </p><p>"I'm a villain, <i>Barry</i>. In case you forgot. Exploiting weaknesses is what I do. Using them against foolish – pretty – heroes – who carelessly – give away their identity." He can't resist punctuating his words by grinding his hips down against Barry's in shallow thrusts.</p><p>He's making a point. That's all there is to it. </p><p>But judging from the way he feels Barry's cock stir against his and how the kid's eyes darken with heat and arousal, that point is spectacularly lost on him. Barry's staring up at him, his face soft and slack and so fucking <i>pretty</i>, lips red and bruised from kisses and worrying them with his teeth, hair an unruly mess against the pale sheets. </p><p>Then, suddenly, the room spins. A sense of vertigo hits Leonard between the eyes, and the next thing he knows, he's lying on his back with Barry sitting on top of him, holding on to Leonard's arms. Literal sparks are dancing between them, jumping from Barry's fingers across Leonard's skin like tiny flashes of lightning. Leonard can <i>feel</i> them, can feel the power radiating off Barry.</p><p>It should be intimidating, but Leonard's always been too fascinated by dangerous things. </p><p>"Okay." Barry's grinning. That tight round ass of his that Leonard may have admired a couple of times when he saw it wrapped up in the red leather of the Flash suit is rubbing tantalizingly against Leonard's hardening cock as Barry leans down towards him. "Do your worst, Cold. I'll be ready."</p><p>It's a challenge wrapped in a taunt, and Leonard's never been able to resist those.</p><p>"I'm counting on it, Scarlet." He takes hold of Barry's hips, fingers splayed wide. Barry's skin feels too hot under his touch, and Leonard wonders if it's just arousal making his blood boil or if it's another unique part of his speedster physique. </p><p>He lets his hands wander, cupping Barry's ass, his fingers teasing the cleft until one of them dips a little deeper into the slick heat. Barry's reaction is as instantaneous as it's satisfying. His back arches, his half-hard cock bopping against Leonard's abdomen. </p><p>It would be a shame to end this now, Leonard concedes. Perhaps they can come to a... mutually satisfying arrangement.</p><p>"I'll make you a deal, Barry. Stick around for round two and maybe you'll get your post-coital cuddles."</p><p>"Sounds—oh!—good." Barry's voice stutters when Leonard presses his trigger finger snugly against his middle finger and slowly pushes them into Barry. Getting fucked earlier has left Barry slippery and loose enough that they go in easily. Leonard doesn't stop until the second knuckles stretch Barry's rim. When he curls his fingertips a little, Barry gasps and grinds down harder against Leonard's cock.</p><p>"Glad we're seeing eye to eye for once," Leonard drawls. </p><p>He pulls Barry into a brief kiss as his hands keep exploring every inch of that magnificent, inhumanly strong body. The one that isn't presently two-fingers deep in Barry's ass traces the muscles along his back until Barry suddenly flinches.</p><p>Leonard breaks away and appraises the way the bruise spreads across Barry's pale, freckled skin. Judging by Barry's reaction, his flesh is still tender at the center of it, where the mark is the darkest and a barely-there swelling bulges under Leonard's touch. </p><p>"That's mine, isn't it?"</p><p>He notices the little hesitation before Barry nods, as if he's concerned about giving too much away by admitting it. Like how fast he's healing, and how much damage the Cold Gun is capable of, even when he's wearing the suit and Leonard barely grazed him with the blast.</p><p>Leonard runs his knuckles across the bruise again, lightly enough that it won't cause any discomfort. </p><p>He has no qualms of hurting the Flash when they go against each other out there, but causing pain has never been something that gets him off. Still, he isn't quite prepared for how possessive it makes him feel, seeing the mark on Barry's otherwise unblemished body up close and personal – the mark <i>he left</i> on Barry.</p><p>"Admiring your work?" Barry asks, and damn, Leonard <i>really</i> needs to work on his poker face when he's around the Flash.</p><p>He briefly wonders if it's a trick question, but Barry doesn't look upset, and there's a teasing lilt in his voice.</p><p>Leonard shrugs. "Only a single mark on you, and it's mine. Can go to a guy's head."</p><p>"It'll be gone by morning," Barry says, mildly. Then his lips tilt into a smile and he curves his back, sinking a little deeper onto Leonard's fingers. "If you want to leave more marks, I'd rather you didn't use your gun."</p><p>Leonard thinks of all the pleasurable ways he can mark Barry with just his fingers and his lips and his teeth. He won't need the Cold Gun to take the Flash apart. </p><p>"That can be arranged."</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>#</p>
</div>In the morning, Leonard wakes up alone.<p>The bed's still warm next to him. His hand lingers where he idly traces the imprint of Barry's head on the pillow, and he's thrown into a vivid sense memory of Barry's soft, heated skin under his fingers. </p><p>He still can't quite believe that he got the Flash between the sheets. </p><p>Hard to decide what's the bigger accomplishment: cracking his nemesis' secret identity, or finding out what he looks like when he comes. The first one is actually useful, of course, something that'll make Leonard's life infinitely easier moving forward, but the latter... that's almost too good to be true.</p><p>He allows himself to bask in the memories for a little while before he gets up. </p><p>His neck cracks when he stretches and his back protests. Unlike the mostly healed mark of frostbite on Barry's side, his own souvenirs from their fight will last a lot longer. He doesn't usually mind, but on mornings like this, he feels his age, and the toll the life he's lived has taken.</p><p>Coffee first, he decides, and then he'll have to clean out the apartment. As a safe house, it has outlived its usefulness, now that the Flash knows the address. It's a shame. It's one of the nicer places he's had, and he's grown rather fond of the view across the river from the fire escape outside the bedroom.</p><p>Leonard opens the window and sticks his head out, breathing in crisp, cool morning air. </p><p>It's early enough that the water and the buildings on the other side of it are blanketed by thick, pale grey fog. The buzzing sound of the commuter traffic carries from the city center, mingling with the cries of gulls from the docks.</p><p>He's more a night owl – comes with the job – but he likes this time of day, too. How it feels fresh and sharp, full of possibilities. Especially after a night like that.</p><p>A sound from inside his apartment abruptly cuts off his wandering thoughts and reins them in. He catches a flare of light out of the corner of his eyes and twists around, reaching for the Cold Gun.</p><p>In the middle of the bedroom, a blur of scarlet solidifies and Barry materializes, his cheeks flushed red and his hair windswept. He rubs his shoes on Leonard's carpet, a faint trail of smoke rising up and a distinct burning smell in the air.</p><p>Leonard's half-tempted to shoot at him out of principle.</p><p>"Um, sorry 'bout that." Barry offers a bashful grin. There's lightning in his eyes, Leonard notices with unconcealed fascination. The flash of gold in Barry's sclera fades fast, but for the split-second it lasts, it's as awe-inspiring as it's magnificent.</p><p>Now that Leonard knows who Barry is, he can't stop mentally adding the cowl of the Flash suit to his face, comparing how different he looks without it. How similar, too. The fact that Leonard didn't make the connection last night at Saints and Sinners speaks volumes about how <i>distracted</i> he was.</p><p>When Barry starts babbling, Leonard pushes the thought away. </p><p>"I quickly ran to Jitters and got us coffee. And bagels. And those seasonal pumpkin cheesecake muffins they started selling last week; they're amazing! I didn't know what you liked, so I just—" His voice falters when he looks at Leonard, and his smile turns into a grimace. "Oh. I was supposed to be gone in the morning, wasn't I?"</p><p>Leonard watches him, considering. </p><p>By all rights, he should have gone for his gun last night and put a <i>freeze</i> on his Flash problem as soon as Barry revealed his identify. And even if he let himself be side-tracked by how unabashed and openly his greatest enemy was giving himself to Leonard, it should have remained an anomaly. Whatever temporary truce they wordlessly agreed on, it wasn't supposed to survive the harsh morning light. </p><p>And yet here's the Flash, Central City's notoriously righteous do-gooder, standing in the middle of Leonard's bedroom – and instead of slapping a pair of handcuffs on Captain Cold and speeding him off to CCPD, he's holding out a bag of breakfast take-out from a coffee shop halfway across town. A pale, half-faded bruise peeks out at the neckline of his sweater, and Leonard remembers fastening his lips there last night and worrying the skin with his teeth until it started turning red.</p><p>Leonard's not the sentimental type. He doesn't usually get taken in by a pretty face and a sweet smile appealing to his better angels and trying to get past his defenses. He's killed people for less. </p><p>But Barry's even more of a mystery now than he was last night, when he seemed like nothing more than an awkward kid walking into the wrong kind of bar. Revealing his identity had clearly been an accident, but the fact remains that Barry knowingly let someone who shot a lethal weapon at him just a couple of days before take him to bed. The desire to figure out what makes him tick and what's going on in that pretty, lightning-fast mind of his still itches under Leonard's skin, almost more than before.</p><p>The silence has stretched past the point of awkwardness, and it must be worse for a speedster for whom the world probably moves in slow motion.</p><p>Leonard steps up towards him and lets his voice drop into that same clipped drawl he's taken to using whenever he dons the parka and the Cold Gun. Lisa mockingly calls it his supervillain voice, but Leonard likes how <i>frosty</i> it makes him sound. Goes well with the persona. </p><p>"Strictly speaking, <i>Flash</i>, you were never supposed to be here in the first place." </p><p>Barry squares his shoulders and nods, but not before Leonard catches the brief ripple of disappointment across his features. Cute. </p><p>Leonard inclines his head. "But since you already went to the trouble of getting us breakfast, you might as well stick around."</p><p>It's a risk, but the potential pay-off is worth it. Perhaps he can get Barry to reveal some more useful information and trade secrets about his vigilante activity if he sticks around a while longer. There's a shred of truth in the good old 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' advice, especially in Leonard's line of business.</p><p>He's just thinking practically. It's got nothing to do with the way Barry's smile lights up his whole face and his body sways towards Leonard's as if pulled by magnetic force. Nothing at all to do with Leonard's fascination with the Flash only running deeper the more he finds out about the man beneath the suit.</p><p>"I guess it would be a shame for all that food to go to waste," Barry agrees eagerly, but from the way his eyes dart down to Leonard's lips, Leonard would bet that he cares as little about the contents of his Jitters bag right now as Leonard does.</p><p>He lets his fingers trail down Barry's arm and takes the bag out of his unresisting fingers, disposing of it carefully on the floor before reaching for Barry again. </p><p>Static electricity buzzes against his skin when his hand slips underneath Barry's shirt where it rides up from his jeans. It's surprise more than pain that makes him jump, but he tightens his hold instead of letting go. </p><p>"Sorry," Barry says, almost sheepishly, like those fascinating abilities of his are something to apologize for. </p><p>He has no idea how astonishing he is, has he?</p><p>All that <i>power</i>, right under Leonard's palms. </p><p>As much as he loves the thrill of the chase, the high stakes game of plotting his way into the securest vaults and best guarded buildings, it pales in comparison to having his most dangerous opponent exactly where he wants him.</p><p>He leans in so close that his lips brush against Barry's when he speaks. "You can make it up to me."</p><p>Maybe he won't be getting rid of the apartment just yet.</p>
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  <p>End.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments are love (like hot cocoa with mini-marshmallows, just with less calories)! ♥</p><p>You can <a href="http://sproutwings.tumblr.com">find me on Tumblr</a>, drowning in Coldflash feels, one GIF set at a time.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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